


aftershock

by firebirds



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: (im baby), Bottom Loki (Marvel), Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Porn with Feelings, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Top Thor (Marvel), babys first smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-15 00:57:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21244886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firebirds/pseuds/firebirds
Summary: “I’m here,” said Loki. His voice sounded oddly off balance.Thor’s hand moved to trace Loki’s cheek, cup his jaw. Loki was gazing at him, pupils wide. They were impossibly close. That new emotion again, dizzying. “What are you waiting for?” Thor whispered, but he already knew the answer. He tilted Loki’s jaw upward.





	aftershock

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant to be a short smutty drabble to give me a break from writing plotty stuff but, what do you know. feelings happened. 
> 
> ALSO i really just forgot that bruce existed until now, so he's very much not in this fic. you can just imagine him up to his usual shenanigans w/ brunnhilde. 
> 
> hope you enjoy!!

The Grandmaster’s ship was a marvel unto itself. Enough space to house the entirety of Asgard’s displaced population twice over. Stores that would last them all the way to Earth and back again. Showers, beds, spare clothing. A miracle, really, because none of them had had any time to worry about the small matter of surviving on their journey through space as Asgard had erupted around them. 

A council was formed– Thor, Brunnhilde, Loki, and a few Asgardians who had acted as Loki’s advisors during his tenure as king. It was strange, at first. Someone would suggest something and look to Thor, and Loki would answer before Thor could even open his mouth. The room would fall into stilted silence until Brunnhilde, a little grudgingly, admitted that Loki was right. 

Loki was used to being in charge, and, Thor allowed, he was not as terrible at it as Thor had first thought. 

Eventually, they fell into a rhythm. Thor would issue his decrees. Loki would argue with him about them behind closed doors, sometimes well into the night. Brunnhilde was as insightful as Thor expected her to be– in other words, she schooled them both, and in the end, it was thanks to her that life on the ship began running smoothly. 

**

Sometimes little skirmishes broke out, quarrels borne of long-held grudges that had not burnt away with the rest of Asgard. They never lasted long. In the light of everything they had lost, the Asgardians had become a collective. People who had never deigned to speak to one another became inseparable. Families long since torn asunder were reunited. Love blossomed. Tenderness in the wake of tragedy. 

**

Thor found them in the mess hall. 

Brunnhilde and Loki were engaged in a wildly cutthroat Sakaarian card game, spewing venom unchecked at one another. Loki was losing badly. Korg, who had pulled up a chair, watched in horrified fascination. 

“You’re just in time,” said Brunnhilde as Thor approached them. “I’m about to destroy Lackey–”

“_Loki_–”

“For the third time in a row.” She grinned up at Thor, who responded in kind. Not for the first time, Thor felt awash with gratitude that Brunnhilde was here. Her presence lit up the room. 

“Is that so?” He asked, amused. Loki had always thoroughly trounced him when it came to such matters. 

“Only because,” Loki said through gritted teeth, “she’s _cheating._” A spasm crossed his face as Brunnhilde placed a card in the middle of the table and, reclining indolently against the back of her chair, waited for Loki to play his hand. 

“So are you. I just do it better,” she replied coolly. 

Loki threw his cards on the table, conceding defeat. 

“And I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” she gloated. 

“You were playing this game,” hissed Loki, “for _years _before I even came to Sakaar–”

“Excuses, excuses,” Brunnhilde cooed. 

Loki sprang to his feet and almost flattened Thor in his haste to storm off. 

“You seem a little tense,” said Thor mildly, as he helped Loki regain his balance, hands on his shoulders. Loki glowered. Thor smiled, thinking that he would never get used to it, being able to touch Loki without his hand passing right through him. 

Thor watched as Loki stalked away. It was a dizzying feeling. 

**

There were some things they never spoke about.

Their parents, for one. Loki’s stint on Midgard for another. A thousand and one things in between. They never spoke of Jane Foster, or Sif and the Warriors Three, or the time Loki had died in his arms and said _I didn’t do it for him. _They especially never spoke of Jotunheim. It was a tacit promise that kept the easy peace between them that they had so carefully cultivated.

Until one night when Thor, ever the fool, broke the promise and asked Loki to show him his jotunn form. He didn’t know what possessed him to do it– curiosity, perhaps. Maybe he wanted proof of how far he had come since the days destroying Jotunheim had been his primary goal in life. It just slipped out, interrupting Loki as he read aloud to Thor some convoluted passage from a book he had filched from the Grandmaster’s library. 

Loki stood up, shutting the book with a decisive _thump_, and levelled Thor with a glare so cold that, for a moment, Thor expected Loki’s skin to turn blue.

He didn’t speak to Thor for days after. 

Thor, who did not believe he had done anything wrong, stubbornly refused to give in and apologize. He spent the extra time he had, oddly enough, in the library, where he poured over books of poetry that had never before interested him. 

On the fourth day of their enforced separation, Loki strolled into the library and stopped dead at the sight of him. Thor walked up to him, holding one such book of poetry out, pages splayed open. 

“This one made me think of you,” he said. His voice came out softer than he had meant it to. 

Loki took the book and stared up at him, a little wild-eyed. 

Things returned to normal after that. 

**

Very rarely, they sparred. 

Most of the time, Thor sparred with Brunnhilde, who, being a Valkyrie, was exemplary in every way. Thor always came out of their sessions feeling for all the world like he was a child again, excitedly awaiting the day when he, too, could become a Valkyrie. 

With Loki, it was different. Loki fought with his mind, not with instinctive physicality, as Thor did. He was quick, agile, and used magic as easily and freely as he breathed. It forced Thor to think as he fought, kept him on his toes as, around him, reality became ambiguous and elusive. Most of the time, Thor won– after all, he was not the strongest avenger for nothing. 

Once or twice, Loki managed to best him. The first time, it had been with a flurry of magic and strategic swordplay that had erupted, all at once, out of nowhere. If he was being honest, Thor barely remembered the fight. He remembered what came after. Loki, smirking down at him as he yielded, then offering him a hand and pulling him to his feet. The thin sheen of sweat glistening at Loki's brow, cheeks flushed with exertion, and how his smirk had turned into a little, proud smile, cheeks dimpling. He remembered having to look away, feeling like the moment was so full it would burst.

**

It was easy to get lost on the ship. 

Sometimes people would disappear for hours, then emerge, blinking and starry-eyed, weaving tales about how they had stumbled upon a giant room that was _just _bed (Thor carefully did not think about what said room had been used for); another room that contained shelves of various miniature Grandmaster figurines; and another that blared disco music non-stop, even when nobody was inside.

Thor avoided such excursions– he was the captain of the ship and the leader of his people, he couldn’t exactly go missing for hours at a time. Brunnhilde, despite the position of importance she held on his council, seemed to have no such objections. About 3 weeks into their voyage, she disappeared for almost two full days, and when she finally came stumbling into the mess hall for dinner, it was with the glazed smile of someone who had recently reunited with a long lost lover.

“I found,” she announced, and held up a rather large bottle, “the booze.”

Everyone seemed rather galvanized by this, and, abandoning their dinner, followed Brunnhilde to the wine cellars in an excited flurry of activity. 

Later, as his subjects grew increasingly incoherent, Brunnhilde pulled up a seat beside him and poured two glasses, one for each of them. 

“I shouldn’t,” said Thor, because he was older now, was not just a prince but a _king_. 

Brunnhilde raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Even kings need to let loose sometimes,” she said, surprisingly gentle. Then: “plus, I’ve heard you’re a real lightweight.” She grinned. 

“I cannot allow such slander to stand,” he said and, clinking his glass against hers, downed the contents in one go. Brunnhilde matched him. Everything deteriorated from there. 

**

They were perhaps about ten bottles in, between the two of them, when Loki joined them. 

“There you are,” said Loki, pointing at Brunnhilde. “I’m here,” he said, then swayed rather alarmingly, “to outdrink you.” 

Brunnhilde stared at him. Loki hiccuped. 

“I think it’s time your brother went to bed,” Brunnhilde said, addressing Thor, then popped open another bottle. Thor stood up.

“I’ll take him,” he volunteered, half because Loki looked like he could use some help, and half because his own head had begun swimming and he didn’t want Brunnhilde to make fun of him.

“I can make it on my own,” scowled Loki, and didn’t move. 

“It’s this way,” Thor said, with a confidence he didn’t possess. 

“Nope,” piped up Brunnhilde, “it’s _that _way.” She pointed in the opposite direction. 

Gathering up the last crumbs of his dignity, Thor thanked her and dragged Loki away.

**

They were sitting beside one another on the bed, a hands width apart. Loki was gazing at him through dark eyelashes, lids heavy, lips wine-dark. Neither of them spoke, and the past became a lingering, obtrusive presence in the room. 

How many times had they retreated to Loki’s chambers together, after a long night of feasting and celebrating? Sometimes they had lain next to one another for hours, shoulders barely touching. Thor had always been far too intoxicated, in those days, helplessly caught up in the revelry. He was almost glad for it– glad he didn’t have to remember drooling into Loki’s bed sheets or spouting off about some minor injustice inflicted on him by Odin. 

He had always taken it for granted, then, that Loki would remain forever at his side. Perhaps they would fight. Perhaps one or both of them would get married. Perhaps years would go by and they would not see one another. It didn’t matter. Thor had known, with the unshakable conviction of youth, that nothing would ever change between them. 

Things had changed between them. 

They were not in Loki's chambers in Asgard. They were in a ship hurtling through space, the ruins of their home nothing but a smouldering pinprick in the distance. The knowledge of everything they had lost sat tight in his chest. 

Thor met Loki’s eyes. 

Then there was this. 

Unspoken. 

Thor had lost everything. But Thor had gained this. 

“I can’t come to Midgard with you,” said Loki. Even drunk, his expression was indecipherable. He looked away. “The Midgardians will not allow it.”

Thor hadn’t expected to return to this conversation. They’d brushed upon it weeks ago, but somehow, in the ensuing chaos, it had been swept under the rug, forgotten. He was caught off guard, grasping, stupidly, for something to say. Eventually, he spoke: “since when do you care what is allowed?” It was an honest question. Loki had never shied from causing trouble. His reticence now was bewildering.

Loki’s lips were a hard line. “And if they say you can only settle there if I am not present? What then?”

Thor was perplexed. “You’re a shapeshifter. Just–“ he waved his hand, “change shapes. They’ll never figure it out,” he said. Perhaps he was a little too inebriated to be having this conversation. 

The side of Loki’s mouth quirked upwards. Thor was certain he was about to say something devastating about his intelligence, or rather, his lack thereof. 

“That wizard,” Loki said instead, “he will know if I set foot on Midgard.” 

Thor frowned. “The alcohol has made you stupid,” he announced. 

Loki’s gaze snapped to his. His mouth parted, offended. Despite himself, Thor smiled. 

“We are Thor and Loki of Asgard,” said Thor. “We will simply… dispose of the problem.”

Loki’s expression was incredulous. “You’re going to kill the wizard so I can live on Midgard with you?”

Thor was not sure how they had stumbled down this path. “No,” he said finally, “you can do that part.”

“You will allow me to kill the wizard so I can live on Midgard with you?” Loki’s brow furrowed as if he had encountered a particularly difficult concept and was having trouble wrapping his mind around it. 

Thor was going to regret this in the morning. 

“Yes,” Thor said. 

Thor was _not _going to regret this in the morning, for, with one word, he had managed to transform Loki’s face. He was smiling at Thor, then, honest in a way that tore Thor apart. He could almost pretend that they were in Asgard, again. Before everything. Loki looked helplessly young. 

The silence that overtook them was so warm that Thor almost let himself melt into it. It was enough, to have Loki smiling at him like that. 

“I should have stayed on Sakaar,” said Loki in a quiet voice, and the moment was broken. Thor let himself collapse onto the bed. Loki stared down at him.

“There is still time,” said Thor eventually. He didn’t meet Loki’s eyes. The tightness was back. Everything they had lost. It spooled between them.

“I could go anytime,” said Loki, in the same quiet voice. He was still looking at Thor. 

Suddenly, Thor was furious. The words spilled out of him, unbidden. 

“You should have stayed when you had the chance,” said Thor, “because I will not let you leave now.” 

Loki curled his lip. Everything had become dangerous and tense between them once more. “I will do as I please,” he snapped. Of course he would. Loki had always done what he pleased, heedless of the consequences. 

“You can try,” replied Thor. 

They glared at each other. 

Unexpectedly, Loki faltered. “I thought–“ he swallowed. When he spoke again, his voice was mild. “You said our paths had diverged.” 

Thor said, simply: “I lied.”

They were gazing at one another again. 

“You’re always so,” said Loki, then stopped. _I’m always so what?_ Thor wanted to ask, but didn’t. The atmosphere had gone soft again. It was like being lost at sea; he didn’t want to rock the boat. Loki lay down beside him. Thor could feel how stiff he was, he didn’t even have to look. 

“I can’t be anything other than what I am,” said Thor. It felt like a confession. 

“I know,” breathed Loki. 

Their shoulders brushed. Thor was struck by it again, the realization that Loki was truly there, wasn’t an illusion– that there was nothing between them but words and memories that, if he looked at them directly, faded into nothingness. 

“I can’t force you to stay,” admitted Thor, because he knew it bothered Loki, the implication that he could. Loki, who yearned desperately for a home and ran for the hills whenever one was offered. “I can only ask you to.” 

They stared up at the ceiling. 

“Then ask,” said Loki. 

Their shoulders pressed against one another. 

“Loki,” said Thor, and the world burst into glorious colour as Loki interlaced their fingers, silent, apprehensive at his side. “_Stay._”

**

Thor woke up the next day with Loki pressed into his side, and his splitting headache fell away like dead leaves in autumn when Loki, not quite awake, made a sleepy noise and curled in closer to Thor. Thor hadn’t known what to expect– thought that Loki would steal away in the middle of the night, or wake up stiff and awkward and ignore Thor for as long as it took to forget about their conversation. Instead, when Loki did wake up, he yawned, then, realizing who was beside him, gazed wide-eyed at Thor. 

“Sleep well?” Asked Thor, voice hoarse from disuse.

“Better than I expected to,” came the reply. 

Thor wondered when it would come– the rebuff, the quick escape. But all Loki did was look at him, like he didn’t quite know who Thor was, or why he was there.

“I thought you’d leave,” admitted Thor, because apparently, he didn’t know how to enjoy something while it lasted. 

Loki blinked. “But,” he said, “this is my room.” 

“Oh,” said Thor after a moment. Then, “sorry.”

They gazed at one another. 

“Aren’t you going to kick me out?” Asked Thor, only half joking. Loki had always enjoyed his privacy, and Thor wouldn’t– _couldn’t– _push at his boundaries if he wanted this (whatever _this _was) to last. 

“Right,” said Loki. “Well. You’re free to go.” 

“Do you want me to go?” Pressed Thor, expecting to hear a decisive _yes, you idiot_.

Instead, Loki stared at him with a dazed expression, lips slightly parted. “I–” he said, then flushed. He gathered himself. “You’re the king,” he said, “you do as you please.”

Thor couldn’t help but smile at the echo of last night’s conversation– _I will do as I please. _“I can try,” he replied, his voice fatally tender. He didn’t care if Loki kicked him out or insulted him or didn’t speak to him for a few days, because the sheer stupidity and blind optimism of youth had overtaken him once more. _We’ll always have this, _he thought, _no matter how hard you try to run from it. _

Loki was staring with great interest at a spot on the wall. “It’s okay,” Loki pushed out with considerable difficulty, “if you stay.” And then he flushed even deeper, and his mouth did something strange, like it wanted to smile but Loki didn’t want to let it. 

Thor said, “okay,” and pretended he didn’t feel like he was falling into some entirely new, entirely dangerous emotion that he was too afraid to name. 

**

“What happened between you two,” said Brunnhilde when Thor walked into the mess hall for breakfast that morning. 

“Nothing,” said Thor. 

“Good. I resent being used as a plot device to help you two idiots figure out your feelings,” replied Brunnhilde. 

And that was that. 

**

They were days away from earth when it happened. 

Loki was waiting for him in his chambers, leaning against the far wall. 

“What–” Thor started to say, but something in Loki’s expression made him stop cold. 

“I’m going,” said Loki. 

“You just got here,” replied Thor, knowing that wasn’t what Loki meant. Loki stared at him, emotionless. Thor stood frozen in the doorway. He said, flatly, “when.”

“Soon,” said Loki, “in the morning.” 

Thor shut the door behind him. This room had been his home for the past three months, but he couldn’t have felt less welcome– a particularly unwanted intruder. “I’m surprised you’re telling me,” he said. He came to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“I didn’t want you doing anything stupid,” said Loki, “like trying to find me.” 

The ensuing silence was a rope pulled taut, fraying as it came apart. Loki was waiting for something. Thor didn’t play along. 

The rope snapped.

“Nothing to say?” Loki asked, and his face twisted into a strange smile. “I thought you’d be begging me not to go.” There was an edge to his voice. “_Loki,_” he said, mocking, “_Stay.” _

Thor’s heart clenched. He forced himself to meet Loki’s gaze. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to have Loki look at him like that– like he hated him. “Is that what you want me to say?” He said. Calm. It was like falling from a great height and watching the ground rise up to meet him; there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening. 

“No,” said Loki. This was new. Loki had always been impossible to shut up; monosyllabic answers weren’t his style. 

“Then why did you come here?” asked Thor. Hurtling towards certain death. 

Again, the silence stretched. 

“Are you even here?” Thor rose to his feet as the thought occurred to him. Could Loki be so cruel? Sending an illusion in his place, showing Thor what he could never possibly hope to have. 

“Why don’t you come find out?” Drawled Loki, and Thor was suddenly reminded how dangerous his brother was when he was like this. 

Thor knew, even as his feet propelled him towards Loki, that this was a game he wouldn’t win. Thor stopped. They were a hand’s breadth apart. Even this close, Loki looked impeccable, not a hair out of place. A far cry from the man he’d freed from Asgard’s prison cells years ago. 

“Well?” Said Loki, looking up at Thor. “What are you waiting for?”

_What are you asking me to do?_ Thor didn’t ask. He reached out, knowing he was about to hit the ground any second now, but not knowing what that would mean. They breathed in sync. Thor was tempted to close his eyes, but he knew he had to face the moment head-on. 

His fingers brushed Loki’s temple, slid into his hair. 

“I’m here,” said Loki. His voice sounded oddly off balance. 

Thor’s hand moved to trace Loki’s cheek, cup his jaw. Loki was gazing at him, pupils wide. They were impossibly close. That new emotion again, dizzying. “What are you waiting for?” Thor whispered, but he already knew the answer. He tilted Loki’s jaw upward. 

Certain death.

Loki’s eyes fluttered closed, and they were kissing. 

Heat rushed through Thor. Their mouths fit together like puzzle pieces, inevitable. Suddenly, Loki’s mouth opened under his, and it became hot, heady, like nothing Thor had ever tasted before. Their tongues were moving against one another. Thor’s hand moved from Loki’s jaw and fisted in his hair, pulling ever so slightly, and Loki sighed, breath hot.

They pulled apart, breathing heavily, gazing at one another. There wasn’t a word either of them could say.

And they were kissing again, Thor’s body pressing forward to meet Loki’s, and Loki was sliding his hands down Thor’s sides, like Thor was his, like he was claiming him. 

Loki’s teeth sank into Thor’s lips, and a dam burst in Thor’s brain, and he was slamming Loki bodily against the wall, tearing his lips away only to bring them back a moment later to Loki’s neck– the soft, fragile space where Loki’s pulse was beating impossibly fast, and up, to the delicate junction of his jaw. 

Loki shuddered beneath him, eyes closed and lips parted as Thor’s mouth travelled higher to tug at his earlobe. Trapped between Thor and the wall, Loki’s hips moved slowly against his, and it was Thor’s turn to shudder. They were so close, but they weren’t close enough. 

Thor pulled back and reached to tug at Loki’s clothes, but Loki caught his wrist. The world came to a grinding halt. Loki’s mouth was red. His eyes were dark. 

“I’m still going,” said Loki, as if Thor could possibly forget. His voice was hoarse. 

“No, you’re not,” growled Thor, because, if nothing else, he could pretend. He began kissing Loki’s neck again. Loki’s breath quickened, his palms snaking up Thor’s chest. He pushed. Thor stumbled back, and the new space between them felt like an eternity. So this was how it was going to be. 

“Yes,” said Loki, “_I am._”

They were at an impasse. Thor was fully roused, and he knew Loki was too. Had felt it. 

“What do you expect me to say?” Demanded Thor. “That I give you my blessing? No,” he said, “you’re coming to Midgard with me.” His tone offered no room for argument. 

Something in Loki’s face shifted. He was almost smiling. “I remember. You’ll let me kill the wizard.” 

“I’ll even help you,” Thor replied, and he felt tenderness creep into his voice, couldn’t stop it if he tried. “If that will make you stay.”

The space between them no longer felt too large. It didn’t feel large enough. The atmosphere had changed. Thor felt the inherent _wrongness_ of it. Loki was silent as he gazed at him. 

“Is this goodbye?” Asked Thor, and he knew what Loki saw at that moment, looking at him. Weakness. Thor, vulnerable again, to Loki’s every whim. It was as it had always been. He waited for Loki to press his advantage, to crush Thor under the heel of his boot.

He didn’t.

Loki said, “if it is, we’re doing a pretty terrible job of it.” He was still pressed against the wall, eyes wide. Staring at Thor like he couldn’t quite figure him out. 

“Really?” Asked Thor. “I think this is right on par for us.” His mind was replaying Loki’s words over and over again in his head. _If it is. If. _

A tentative smile had stolen across Loki’s face. “We do always seem to fall into the same patterns,” he said. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. “You know that goodbye has never meant forever, between us.”

Thor did know that. He also knew that, every time they said goodbye, it had _felt_ like forever, at least to him. Thor thought, _what can I do to make you stay. _He said, “you made me ask you to stay.”

“I just.” Loki swallowed. “I just wanted to hear you say it.” 

Thor turned, because looking at Loki had suddenly become too much. “You wanted to hold it over me,” he said, flatly. He was striding over to his desk, pouring himself a glass of wine. He no longer felt the need to be brave. He no longer had it in him. 

“_No_,” said Loki, and he was there, taking the glass from Thor’s hand, putting it back on the desk. They were so close Thor could feel the warmth of Loki’s breath. “That’s not–” he cut himself off, like he couldn’t make himself say it. 

He thought about everything that had passed between them, from the moment he had walked into the room to see Loki waiting for him. Trust Loki to turn everything so hopelessly complex. He remembered handing Loki the book of poems; the way his face lit up after winning their sparring match; Loki interlacing their fingers; Loki curled up beside him. 

“Okay.” Thor let out a breath. “You’re going.” 

Loki was stiff beside him. 

“Just promise me you’ll come back.” He waited for Loki to say no. 

“I promise,” Loki breathed.

They gazed at one another. This time, when the kiss came, it was tender, almost chaste. Thor kissed him until he felt the tension in Loki’s shoulders melt away, kissed him until he lost himself in it, pushing his tongue into Loki’s mouth, shivering at the scrape of Loki’s teeth against his lips. Gently, Loki pushed him back until they reached the bed. 

Loki pulled away from Thor and sat on the bed, smiling up at him pleasantly. The picture of innocence. Thor’s blood ran hot. 

“You’re wearing far too much clothing,” pouted Loki, dragging his eyes up and down Thor’s body. Thor’s hands were moving to undress himself before his brain had even registered the words. Loki watched with practiced insouciance, until Thor’s hands paused over his pants. 

“You’re sure?” Asked Thor. 

Loki tilted his head at him. “What, am I going to turn to stone if I see it?” He waved a hand. “_Off._”

Thor took them off. 

He was naked, fully roused, standing above Loki who was still covered from head to toe. “Your turn,” he said. 

Loki took off his shirt. Underneath, he was lithe, finely muscled. 

“Brother,” Thor said, “you’ve grown.” 

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. “Am I more to your taste now?” 

Thor pushed him back into the bed. Loki stared up at him, a halo of dark hair framing his face. “You have always been,” and Thor was kissing his way up his navel, pausing to suck briefly on his nipple, “perfect.” He bit the tender spot beneath Loki’s earlobe, which had made him shudder so beautifully before. 

Loki’s back arched. He watched Thor through half-lidded eyes, pants straining where his arousal had made itself apparent. 

“I want these off,” said Thor, tugging at Loki’s pants. His palm ghosted over Loki’s bulge, and Loki’s head fell back. 

“Then take them off,” said Loki, breathy. 

Thor took them off. 

And then both of them were naked, and it was so painfully hot that Thor had to hold himself still for a second, cataloguing every inch of Loki’s body. 

“What?” Asked Loki, propping himself up on his elbows. He had an unsure expression on his face as if wondering if he’d done something wrong. Warmth exploded in Thor’s chest, and he moved so that their bodies were aligned, his knees on either side of Loki’s thighs. 

“You’re incredible,” said Thor, truthfully. He had never seen anything like him. 

Loki flushed all the way down to his chest. “Stop talking,” he said. “Kiss me.”

Thor kissed him. He dipped his hips and moved, in slow, grinding motions, against Loki as Loki dug biting fingers into his back. Thor pulled away and grinned when Loki lifted his head to follow his lips. “Enjoying yourself?” 

Loki scowled, the effect tempered by the quick rise and fall of his chest. 

Thor, whose eyes had been hopelessly drawn to Loki’s frown, brought his index finger to Loki’s lips, tracing their edge. He felt Loki’s breath, hot against his fingertips, and thought he had never been so aroused in his life. Then, in one swift motion, Loki caught his finger between his teeth. 

_He’s going to bite it off_, Thor realized with belated panic. 

Instead, Loki took the entire finger in his mouth and _sucked_, dragging his teeth along the bottom, and staring at him coyly through his dark eyelashes. He bobbed up and down twice more, then pulled off with a beatific smile at Thor. “I want you to do _that,” _he said, “to my cock.” 

Thor swallowed. “I should’ve expected you’d be like this in bed,” he said. He was dazed, cock so hard it was already leaking into the bedsheets. 

“Like what?” Asked Loki.

“Bossy,” replied Thor, and took Loki’s cock in his mouth. 

Loki gasped at the unexpected sensation, his breath devolving into a series of choked off moans as Thor, hand on the shaft, began slowly moving up and down Loki’s cock, tongue circling lazily around the head, giving extra attention to the spot that, Thor knew from experience, made his own vision go white. Loki seemed to have given up on trying to be quiet and was moaning unabashedly every time Thor’s mouth moved down his cock, back arched, hips canting upwards. Loki’s precome salty on his tongue, Thor moved faster, using his teeth this time, ever so gently scraping against the shaft of Loki’s cock. He could feel it, how close Loki was, as he lay there, shivering and gasping beneath him. 

“Stop,” commanded Loki, between groans, and Thor pulled off of him with a wet _pop_. His mouth was wet with spit, and Loki’s cock was flushed an exquisite pink. 

“I thought you liked it,” said Thor, dragging a hand across his mouth. His own cock was heavy with arousal, and Thor had to actively stop himself from taking himself in his hand. 

“I did,” said Loki, still breathing hard. His jaw clenched as he eyed Thor, gaze raking down his body. He looked like every wet dream Thor had ever denied having. “Fuck me,” Loki said. 

The breath left Thor’s body. He had the urge to pinch himself to make sure it wasn’t a dream. He gazed down at Loki in breathless wonder.

Loki met his eyes. “You like it, don’t you,” said Loki, sounding pleasantly surprised. 

“What,” said Thor. There was not a single thing he didn’t like about Loki at the moment. 

Loki’s voice had gone low and gravelly. “You like being told what to do.” 

Thor didn’t answer, instead dragged his hands up Loki’s thighs. Loki’s breath hitched. A glimmer of light and a small vial of oil appeared in Loki’s grasp. He handed it to Thor.

“That’s a useful trick,” commented Thor, and popped open the vial, slathering it onto his fingers. 

Loki’s eyes were drawn to the movement. “It does come in handy,” he replied, offhand. Then his mouth curled into an O as Thor began pushing open his entrance, sliding in one finger, then the next, back and forth in an achingly slow rhythm that had Loki making small, desperate noises with each stroke. Loki was exceptionally tight, and while Thor wanted nothing more than to bury his own cock deep inside him, he held back, adding more fingers as he gradually increased the rhythm.

“You call this fucking?” Asked Loki, with difficulty. He looked thoroughly debauched, and Thor’s heart was thundering in beautiful anticipation. “I want your cock inside me.” Lovelier words had never been said. 

Thor poured more oil onto his fingers and took his cock into his hands, unable to stop the shudder that ran through him at the contact. Covering it in one, two, three slow strokes, he briefly thumbed the leaking head before forcing himself to let go before he finished himself off right there, to the inconceivable sight of Loki, on his back, knees spread, waiting for Thor to fuck him. 

He pressed in. They moaned at the same time. Thor couldn’t believe how good this felt, wanted desperately to lose himself in it, but dug his fingernails roughly into the meat of Loki’s thighs to anchor his thoughts. He thrust, slow, careful. 

“Like you mean it,” gasped Loki, and Thor, losing the last vestiges of his self-control, began thrusting in earnest. He fell onto his elbows, on either side of Loki, so that their chests were pressed together as Thor rutted inside him, Loki’s nails scratching across his back. He seized Loki’s hair roughly, and Loki cried out, the noise quickly stifled by Thor’s lips, as he drew Loki into a deep, greedy kiss that left them both gasping for air when Thor pulled back.

Their eyes met and Thor’s entire body went white-hot. He almost looked away; it felt like an intrusion. Underneath the blatant arousal, Loki’s expression was almost vulnerable– the secret, hopelessly fragile piece of Loki that he usually kept so thoroughly hidden coming to the surface.

Thor heard the stream of words pouring out of his mouth, unbidden. He was half-wild by now, knew nothing but pleasure and the heat of the body beneath him. He was close, so close–

“Loki, I’m going to–”

“Do it,” Loki said, “I want you inside me.”

And Thor was lost, chanting Loki’s name like a prayer while he thrust into Loki like it was the only thing he knew how to do. It came upon him like a wave, and his body convulsed, shuddering, as pleasure shot through his cock. Vaguely, he was aware of Loki’s own body reacting in kind, and they remained in each other’s arms, as release found them both. 

The next several moments passed in a warm, nebulous haze. Thor pulled out of Loki and fell heavily onto his back beside him, spent and exhausted. Loki waved a hand and cleaned them both off (another useful trick), and they lay there, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the ceiling. 

He wanted to say something. There was nothing to say. He shifted, flinging an arm around Loki, pulling him close. Loki, docile, let himself be pulled in, his side against Thor’s chest. Thor pressed a soft kiss to the nape of Loki’s neck and smiled at the flush of crimson that followed. 

“The rumours of your… prowess,” said Loki, hesitatingly, “have not been exaggerated.” 

Thor grinned, pleased. “Trust me, brother. It has never been like this before you,” he replied, truthfully. 

Loki turned his head, then, a soft, sweet smile spread across his face. It was, Thor realized with a start, a smile reserved only for him. Thor pressed a kiss to Loki’s lips. 

Loki was leaving tomorrow. But for now, they had this. 

It was enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> there you have it! this is my first time writing smut so i'm sorry if it came out super awkward. concrit as always is appreciated!
> 
> also come talk to me on [tumblr](https://jotuhneim.tumblr.com/)!!


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